


DreamSlayer

by SilverWing15



Series: I'm Writing Fanfiction About Block Men God Help Me [28]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ding Dong the Green Bitch Is Dead, Gen, Heavy on the angst, Mentions of Tommyinnits death, Panic Attacks, Parental Sam | Awesamdude, Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), The happy ending is Dream dying, Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wish Fulfillment, awesamdad, dream fucking dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 18:34:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30059763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWing15/pseuds/SilverWing15
Summary: He grips his sword tightly. It isn’t the heft of the Axe of Peace, but Dreamslayer is entirely his, weighed by promise, not betrayal. This is a weapon forged to kill a monster, a would-be god. This is the weapon that will set him free.He skids to a halt barely in time to avoid flinging himself into the lava. His foot slips over the edge, his heart leaps into this throat, pounding in his ears. He has to try a couple times to get a good grip on the lever that will bring up the floor.His hands are shaking, he is shaking, all over. His teeth are chattering like he’s wandering through the arctic looking for Techno’s house all over again.He has to do this. He can’t let Sam stop him. He can’t let anyone stop him.He has to kill Dream.
Relationships: Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit
Series: I'm Writing Fanfiction About Block Men God Help Me [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057121
Comments: 7
Kudos: 250
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	DreamSlayer

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and posted this ASAP before my hopes and dreams can be destroyed by the uncaring hand of Canon. [sobbing] I just miss AwesamDad, okay??  
> This is literally just an excuse to write Samn and Tommy hurt/comfort because I Miss Them, and a lot of canon shit is ignored for the convenience of that. The prison being impenitrable? We Do Not See It  
> Sam's keycard being impossible to steal? We Do Not See It  
> Whatever shenaneganery Dream and Ranboo have going on? We Do Not See It
> 
> (I will be back to posting Mer AU tomorrow but I'm sure this will be obliterated from canon possibility in a few days. Not that I really care what canon says.) 
> 
> TWs: Tommy is basically having a panic attack The Entire Time, he thinks about his death and how he died, mentions of his suicidal thoughts, a little bit of disassociation for flavor 
> 
> And this isn't tagged as major character death because its not really all that important to the goings-on and its just Dream that dies anyway. Fuck that guy.

Every time he tells himself that this will be the last time he comes here. The last time he surrounds himself with blackstone and obsidian, the last time that he feels the burn of lava, the last time he lets himself be so helpless. 

Every time he returns, but this time he isn’t going to be locked in. This time he is leaving here as victor, not victim. This time he’s going to kill Dream. This time he  _ has _ to kill Dream. 

Even though Tubbo and Ranboo aren’t by his side any longer. They didn’t even make it through the first room. Even though he can hear Sam’s footsteps behind him, gaining on him. He can hear Sam’s voice, shouting for him to stop, but Tommy isn’t going to stop. Nothing is going to stop him now. 

He grips his sword tightly. It isn’t the heft of the Axe of Peace, but Dreamslayer is entirely his, weighed by promise, not betrayal. This is a weapon forged to kill a monster, a would-be god. This is the weapon that will set him free. 

He skids to a halt barely in time to avoid flinging himself into the lava. His foot slips over the edge, his heart leaps into this throat, pounding in his ears. He has to try a couple times to get a good grip on the lever that will bring up the floor. 

His hands are shaking,  _ he _ is shaking, all over. His teeth are chattering like he’s wandering through the arctic looking for Techno’s house all over again. 

He has to do this. He can’t let Sam stop him. He can’t let anyone stop him. 

He has to kill Dream. 

Sam comes around the corner and stops dead in his tracks. His hands raised, like he’s surrendering. “Tommy,” he says, “come away from the edge.” 

“Fuck off,” Tommy snarls, his voice shakes, too. His eyes are fixed onto Sam’s sword, Warden’s Will. its sheathed for now, but he knows the promises Sam has made to people who even joke about breaking into the prison. He’s actually done it. 

He can hear the pistons starting to chug, bringing the hallway floor up to meet him. He flicks a glance at it. Its still too far down, only barely out of the lava.  _ God the lava _ , it still calls him, sometimes. Still tempts him. But he’s died now, he will never, fucking  _ never _ answer that call.

“Tommy, just talk to me,” Sam says, he holds his hand out, palm up, an offer. 

Fuck him. Fuck him and everything he fucking stands for. Tommy grips Dreamslayer tighter, raises it to point at Sam’s chest. “You--you don’t get to fucking pull that shit,” he says, “you didn’t fucking listen when it  _ mattered _ .” He sweeps Dreamslayer out to the side, down the hall.--The floor is halfway up now. Still too low. Why the fuck is it so slow?--to the cell that holds Dream, that once held him. That once held his lifeless fucking body. 

“I know,” Sam says softly, he takes a step closer. 

Tommy stumbles two back. “Don’t you fucking--” He can’t speak, he doesn’t have enough air. The air in the hall is stifling, the heat of the lava, reflected back off of blackstone. Its like a goddamn oven in here. 

“Okay,” Sam says, backing up, “I’m not coming closer, I’m sorry.” 

He always fucking says that but its too late for sorry. Sorry doesn’t fucking  _ cut it _ . The pistons keep chugging, like a second heartbeat in his ears. It is much slower than his own. 

He presses a hand to his chest, it feels too tight, like someone is squeezing it. Sam is right there, Dream is down the fucking hall. The lava and the water and the blackstone all around him. 

It won’t keep Dream trapped, he’s going to get out, he’s going to get out and he’s going to bring Wilbur back and he’s going to kill Tubbo. He’s going to kill Tubbo and he’s going to kill everyone else and he’s not going to bring them back. But he’ll kill Tommy and bring him back. 

He’ll do it over and over and over again. 

He wants to know what death is like. 

Tommy will fucking show him. 

He’ll fucking  _ show _ that green bastard what its like to die. 

“Tommy breathe,” Sam says. 

“I--am.” Tommy snarls, he has to take three breaths between the words. There isn’t enough  _ air _ in this fucking prison. 

Stone grinds against stone as the floor fucking  _ finally _ makes it up to him. He pushes off from the wall and staggers down the hallway. Dreamslayer drags on the ground, but he doesn’t care. It doesn’t need to be razor sharp, just sharp enough. 

Just sharp enough. 

“Tommy stop!” Sam calls, “Tommy!” 

Tommy doesn’t stop. He’s fucking  _ done _ listening to Sam. 

He races down the hall, bursting into the huge room at the end. The spiral staircase leading up to the ceiling on his left, the vault door ahead of him. He just needs to get through there. 

Sam is behind him still, calling for him. Why can’t he just  _ go away? _ He was fine with leaving Tommy alone in the prison with Dream before. Tommy pulls the lever that should open the vault door. 

It doesn’t move. 

No, he has Sam’s keycard. It should be  _ working _ . 

He yanks frantically at the lever, trying to pull it down. He lets Dreamslayer fall out of his hand. He has to get the fucking  _ door _ . 

“Tommy its not going to open,” Sam says quietly. 

Fuck when did he get that close. Tommy whips around, nearly falling, but at least he catches himself on his hands and that puts them closer to Dreamslayer. He snatches it up, holding it to his chest like a child with a toy. 

Trying to ward off monsters with the desperate hope that a scrap of cloth and stuffing could do anything against the dark. Only this isn’t a toy, this is a weapon, its his fucking weapon. He’s not helpless. He’ll never be helpless again. 

He levels Dreamslayer at Sam. “Why not? What did you do?” 

“The prison is in lockdown, Tommy,” Sam says, like he’s speaking to a child, “none of the doors will open.” 

“I have your keycard!” 

“I locked it out of the system,” Sam says, “It won’t work anymore.” 

No. He can’t fucking  _ do this _ , not when Tommy was so close to killing Dream, to finally being free. He yanks at the lever again. Still nothing. 

Still nothing. 

His eyes burn. 

“No.” he snarls, “undo the lockdown. Open the fucking vault.” he takes a step towards Sam, Dreamslayer leveled at his heart. 

“I’m not going to do that Tommy.” Sam says, he’s got his hands up again, like that fucking matters. “I’m not letting you in there with him.” 

“You have to!” Tommy shouts, his voice sounds desperate, even to his own ears. “You have to.” he says again, quieter. 

“No.” 

He snarls wordlessly and lunges for Sam. Sam sidesteps the first wild swing, but the second he catches on the edge of his own sword. 

Tommy’s breath comes in harsh gasps. Sam is armed, he’s got his sword out. He’s so much stronger than Tommy. Everyone always is. He’s going to lose, he’s going to lose and Sam’s going to kill him and he’ll go back. 

Back to the endless dark, back to Wilbur and Schlatt and the constant gnawing pain. He can’t, he can’t he can’t. 

He  _ won’t _ . 

Sam blocks another blow, grunting softly. Tommy snarls and presses forward, trying to force Sam back to the stairs. If he can trip him up on the edge, he might get a chance to land a finishing blow. Sam has three lives. He can afford it. 

Sam twists, suddenly, out from behind his blade and Tommy is pressing against air. He staggers forward, Sam’s hand wraps around his wrist. 

Dreamslayer clatters to the floor. 

No, no no no,  _ nonononononononono.  _ He wrenches back frantically, there are words bubbling past his lips. Pleas for mercy, begging Sam to stop, to not kill him, he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He’s going to suffocate, or Sam’s going to stab him. He’s going to die. 

He doesn’t want to die. Not again, not ever again. 

Sam lets him go. 

He staggers back to the wall, pressing himself into the corner next to the vault door. The metal is freezing cold against his shoulder. 

He stares up at Sam through the blurriness of his tears. This is it, this is how he dies. In the prison, again. At the hands of someone he thought was his friend, again. 

Warden’s Will clatters to the ground. 

Tommy stares. 

Oh.  _ oh _ . Sam’s going to do it with his hands too. Tommy’s going to get beaten to death again. 

He sobs, trying desperately to shelter behind his arms, but it isn’t going to be enough. Sam is strong, and he’s in full netherite. Tommy’s armor won’t stand up to that. Not for long. 

He shuts his eyes, he doesn’t want to see it coming. Not again. That was the worst part, watching Dream’s fist come down that last, terrible time and realizing that he wasn’t going to fucking stop. He was going to kill Tommy right then and there. 

He waits. 

And waits. 

He opens his eyes, Sam is crouched in front of him. Out of arm’s reach. He’s not wearing his helmet, or his mask. He’s watching Tommy with wet eyes, wet cheeks, his hair all messed up. 

“Hey,” he says softly when he realizes that Tommy is staring at him. Tommy flinches. “I’m not going to hurt you Tommy.” 

Tommy takes a shaky breath and opens his mouth. He has to try a couple times to get the word out, and his voice comes choked and thick, “liar.” 

His heart rate skyrockets. Dream killed him for that, last time. Will Sam do it too? 

Sam shifts his weight and Tommy whimpers, bracing for the pain. Getting beaten is different than dying to a sword or an arrow. The pain is duller, deeper. A blade is all in one go, sharp and swift. 

Fists are blunt, the pain is slower, spreading from the point of impact to what would be bruises. If he lived that long. 

Something clatters on the stone. He stares, Sam is fiddling with the buckles of his arm guards, his chest piece is already on the ground. One by one, he removes his arm guards and the bracers on his legs, until he is unarmed and unarmored. 

He spreads his arms, as if to show it off. “There,” he says, “see? You’ve got armor, you’ve got both the swords right there.” He gestures a little and Tommy realizes that Dreamslayer is right there. Just outside of arm’s reach from where he’s hunkered against the wall. 

He lunges for it, the hilt is solid in his hand, like the only real thing in the world. Its certainly the only thing that makes sense right now. 

“What are you doing here?” Sam asks in that same soft tone. “Tell me and maybe I can help.” 

Tommy clenches his jaw. “I’m going to kill him.” he says, his voice choked, but determined, “I’m going to fucking kill that green bastard.” 

Sam frowns, “Tommy--” 

“He’s going to get out!” his voice is high and desperate, hysterical, “he’s going to get out and he’s going to kill everyone. He’ll do it Sam. He’ll do it. He’s going to get out.” 

“He’s not going to--” 

“I broke in!” Tommy shouts, “I got in, and he made that TnT go off. You know he did. Technoblade owes him a favor. He’s going to bring Wilbur back and they’re going to escape together. They’ll do it Sam you don’t know what Wilbur is capable of now. The things he could do, the things he  _ knows _ . That kind of knowledge can’t come back. He has to stay dead, and Dream has to die. I have to kill him.” 

Sam stares, there is a terrible sort of conflict on his face. His eyes flick to Dreamslayer. “No,” he says finally, “you don’t have to do it. Give me the sword, I’ll take care of it.” 

Tommy tightens his grip on Dreamslayer, but there is something steady in Sam’s gaze. Something utterly unwavering. 

“You don’t have to see him again,” Sam says, “not even for this. I know I failed you before, and I can never,  _ never _ make up for it. But I can do this for you.” 

He holds out his hand and Tommy presses Dreamslayer into it. He watches, feeling distant from himself as Sam sets the blade aside. “Wait for me here, okay?” 

Tommy nods and Sam takes up Dreamslayer and walks to the lever. He does something to the wall and the vault clicks as it unlocks. Sam disappears into the hall, and Tommy waits. 

He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, staring at the blackstone. He doesn’t know how long it takes, but Sam’s footsteps come back, and Dreamslayer is held loose in his hand. There is blood on the blade, there is a darkness in Sam’s eyes. 

“Its done. He can’t hurt anyone anymore, he can’t hurt you anymore.” 

Tommy sobs, and shakes, and he wonders if this is what its like to be reborn. 

Metal scrapes on stone as Sam sets Dreamslayer down, and then his hand very gingerly rests on Tommy’s shoulder. ‘You’re okay,” he says, “its okay now. Everything’s going to be okay.” 

Maybe it will be. 

Maybe it will be. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tubbo and Ranboo, stuck in one of the lockers]  
> T: I told you we should have just nuked the place.


End file.
